Pieces Of Time
by MG12CSI16
Summary: 'It was supposed to be a simple job. Go in, gather the intel and get out.' When a mission ends in disaster Michael is taken on a journey through his past, where he learns to deal with his demons one encounter at a time. Based on the book The Five People You Meet In Heaven.
1. Chapter 1

Based on the book, 'The Five People You Meet In Heaven.' Great story, if you haven't read it I strongly recommend that you do.

I own nothing.

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**Pieces Of Time**

It was supposed to be a simple job. Go in, gather the intel and get out. No one was supposed to get hurt, but when your bad guy has a fed in his pocket things tend to go very wrong very quickly. Michael wasn't expecting it but it still didn't surprise him when it happened, he was a spy after all and if things didn't go bad form time to time than you were probably doing something wrong. The gun was pulled out of thin air it seemed and he had less than four seconds to react before a large and trained hand had it pointing directly at him.

The shot sounded like thunder, and it resonated through the whole restaurant before screams and the sound of shattered glass joined in, creating a symphony in his head. His stomach was on fire and when he curiously put a hand to it he retracted with a hiss of pain and found his fingers stained a sticky red. His head was spinning and colors and shapes began to blur together as he dropped to his knees.

Michael groaned and let his exhausted body fall to the floor, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and fall asleep. He could hear footsteps and a muffled voice calling his name but he couldn't speak.

"Mike! Mike, are you alright? Talk to me brother. Come on." Sam. He could hear his best friend begging and pleading for him to wake up and speak to him, but he had no energy left. It was like falling through the sky, slow and excruciating as he waited to hit the ground. And finally, as the last wave of fiery, white hot pain ripped through him, everything stopped.

There was no sound, no more pain, nothing. Michael cracked an eye open and what he saw was far from what he expected, and definitely nothing he would have ever imagined. It was peaceful and beautiful, with clouds in every color and shade surrounding him. He wasn't wearing the same bloody clothes he had been in a moment ago and instead wore a crisp white tshirt and blue jeans. He was looking for someone, anyone who might be able to answer his questions when he heard his name being called. It was a beautiful and angelic sound and immediately his eyes searched for the source.

She was breathtaking, and as much as Michael Westen didn't believe in the concepts of heaven and hell he was almost positive she was an angel. As the young girl stepped closer to him he felt his breath catch in his throat and his blood run cold. She was achingly familiar with long brown hair that cascaded down her back and green eyes that seemed to look right through him. The same eyes he would find himself looking into every night.

"Hello, Michael." Her voice tinkled like a bell, with a strong Irish accent he could barely understand and her smile was sweet enough to melt any man she may come across. She held out a hand and much to his own surprise he took it, and as she took the first step the clouds cleared and he found himself standing in a field of rolling green grass. There was an unmistakable smell of saltwater and a cool wind whipped past him, he deeply breathed in the smell and let out a sigh. It had been a long time since he had been here.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" the girl smiled at him and sat down in the field, patting the ground next to her and asking Michael to join. He took a seat in the soft grass, letting it tickle his hands. And as he watched the young girl next to him, realization suddenly dawned on him and he felt a pang of sadness pulse through him.

"You're Claire, aren't you?" She nodded and flashed him a brilliantly white smile.

"The very one. Fiona talks about me a lot, huh?" she asked with a laugh. But her smile vanished when she caught the sad look reflecting in Michael's blue eyes. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

"I guess that's not surprising. Fi never was good with emotions, even when we were kids," she mused quietly.

"It's not like that," he told her quickly, wanting to protect Fiona and Claire's feelings. "She feels guilty. About what happened to you. I've only gotten her to talk about twice and both times she was very vague. But she loves you, she always said how much she loved you." Tears welled in Claire's brilliant green eyes and she smiled as she watched the wave's crash into the shore.

"So..." Michael said slowly, wanting to move on, "Why am I here? Or more importantly, where exactly is here?" Claire laughed, high pitched and almost pixie like, her candy colored lips parting slightly.

"You're in heaven, Michael."

He snorted and looked around. "Looks more like Ireland to me."

"Heaven can be anything you want it to be and this is mine." Michael chewed his bottom lip and thought carefully.

"If this is heaven, then that means I'm dead. Right?" Claire nodded sadly and squeezed his hand. Michael sighed and fought back the tears burning in his eyes; this wasn't how it was supposed to happen, there was so much he hadn't said or done. After a moment he recovered and looked back at Claire.

"Ok, then, if this is supposed to be my journey into heaven then what are you doing here?" Claire smiled again.

"I'm here to guide you. Before you can really enter heaven you have to meet five people who've had an impact on your life. But I don't count, because as you already know, we've never met." Michael scowled and watched the ocean roll in and out; trying to fully grasp what was being said to him.

"Come on, we're running out of time." Claire grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet and suddenly the green grass beneath him seemed to evaporate and he found himself in the garage of his mother's house. It looked somewhat like it did today but dirtier, with beer cans and bottles of unfinished bourbon littering the floor and work bench.

"And here you thought you'd only see me in hell, huh boy?" Michael whipped around and found the source of the voice, a face he thought he would never have to see again. Frank Westen, complete with beer bottle in hand stood in front of him smiling wickedly. Michael frowned and his face grew dark, unsure if he should run or not.

"There's no way this is heaven." He said flatly, looking around for Claire, who was no longer next to him. Frank laughed, a loud cackle that shook Michael to his core as memories came flooding back to him.

"Like it or not, Michael, this is heaven, and I am standing in it." He took a swig of his beer before slamming the bottle on the table and taking a seat on one of the stools. He nodded to the one next to him and after a moment's hesitation Michael sat down too.

"Alright, boy, let's make this quick. I'm here to talk to you about your life before you died and just let me say, we've got one hell of a story to go through."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you guys for all the kind words and reviews, it means so much! Hope chapter two is just as good!

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**Pieces Of Time**

Michael stared at his father with his mouth agape, the words sounding more like a jumbled mess and less like the truth. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and all at once he wished Claire would come back and take him away, back to the rolling green fields of Ireland where he could smell saltwater and hear the wave's crash. But sadly, the wish didn't come true and he let out a large sigh, settling into the seat as he mentally prepared himself to take whatever harsh words and cruel memories Frank would try and throw at him.

"Alright," he said impatiently, "let's get this over with." Frank laughed again, quieter than before but still with a cold edge that made Michael cringe.

"Nice try, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. First, before you can meet with the second person on this mystical journey of yours, we've got to go through the life you lived before you died. Now-"

"Wait."

Frank sighed and took a swig from his bottle. "What?"

"I want to know how you got here. And don't look at me like the answer should be so simple. You know what you put us through, me especially and I know there's no way that you actually got into heaven. Right? " Michael's hands were clenched into fists and he fixed Frank with a cold stare, determined to figure out the truth before the conversation got any further.

"I already told you, this is heaven and whether you want to believe it or not I am in it." Frank paused and looked at the table top sadly. "You're not the only one who's surprised either, boy. I sure as hell wasn't expecting to wake up with an angel standin' over top of me, but what's done is done, so can we please get on with your life story?" Michael slowly let out a breath and nodded his confirmation, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand.

"Alrighty then," Frank said, "why don't we start with that time you stole those groceries..."

…

_He wasn't sure what really possessed him to do this, maybe it was the anguish on his mother's face when she learned they had no money for food that week, or maybe it was the pitiful sound of Nate's voice when he told Michael he was hungry and he had nothing to offer the small boy. Either way, it was happening. The grocery store wasn't far, maybe a ten minute walk at the most, but the whole time he walked Michael could hear his heart pounding and his palms were beginning to sweat. _

_He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked through the big double doors and into the air conditioned market. He avoided making eye contact with the bag boys and made his way to the milk, where he picked up a carton and tucked it under his arm. A loaf of bread and a box of cereal joined it, also accompanied by a pre-wrapped package of turkey. _

_By now he could barely think straight, his thoughts all about getting caught and what he would tell his mother when she found out. Michael approached the counter and handed the cashier his items, watching as she quickly scanned the items before they were placed in a single paper bag. She tapped a few keys and slowly Michael picked up the bag and held it closely to his chest. He took a deep breath and counted to three before he started running. _

_He heard the cashier yelling at him, but he refused to stop. "Hey, you have to pay for those! What do you think you're doing?" He was out the door in what he thought was record speed, only as he continued running he could hear heavy footsteps behind him before a hand gruffly grabbed him by the shoulder and he was sent tumbling to the ground and the groceries rolled across the asphalt. He kicked and he scratched, but he was no match for the older boy he was now holding him down on the ground with a look of hatred in his eyes. _

"_Stop!" he yelled, right before a fist connected with his jaw and he bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. He managed to finally wriggle out of the hold and ignored the iron taste of blood in his mouth and the dull ache in his stomach. He picked up the groceries and ran as fast as his legs would carry him until finally he reached home. _

_Michael threw the front door open, stomping inside and taking the bag into the kitchen where his mother was sitting, cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She saw him as he walked by and noticed the blood dripping down his chin. _

"_Michael, what on earth happened to you?" she asked with a shriek, lifting his chin with her hand as she inspected the damage. Michael leaned away and refused to meet her eye._

"_Nothing, I tripped on the way home from the grocery store." His mother eyed the bag of groceries and then her eldest son suspiciously, but she didn't speak. Instead she handed him a damp cloth and began making sandwiches for both he and Nate. _

…

"You always were getting into trouble," Frank mused, stroking the beard on his chin as he watched Michael squirm uncomfortably.

"You know, I remember the only reason I had to steal those is because you blew your paycheck." Michael spat, trying to defend his actions. Frank rolled his eyes and tossed the empty bottle on the ground before a new one suddenly appeared and took its place.

"You always were quick to blame me when things went wrong, whether I was the cause or not. You remember that time you tried to hit me because you thought I gave Nate the bruise on his stomach?" Michael nodded and swallowed hard.

"Yeah well guess what? It didn't come from me; it came from the older boy that lived down the street. Nate just didn't tell you because he was afraid of what you would think of him." Michael stared at Frank for a moment, before clearing his throat and glancing out the window to stare at the clear blue sky.

"You want me to tell you I'm sorry?" he asked, letting his arms fall to his sides. Frank laughed, but it was cold and empty and he shook his head, almost in disbelief.

"No, I'm not looking for apologies right now; you'll have plenty of time for that later. Right now I want you to tell me about your time in the army." Michael froze, a sudden sense of fear making it known.

…

_He was used to running; he had done it too much as a child. Whenever his dad came home drunk and violent he'd slip out his window and run as far as he could. Of course, he always did come home. There was no way he would leave mom and Nate alone in that house, at least not yet._

_Of course, now they were alone, and the guilt ate at him with every step he took, and every time another ragged breath would push itself form his exhausted body. Bullets were flying past him, screams were echoing in his ears but all he could do was run. The smoke that clouded the air made it almost impossible to see and Michael continued to stumble as his boots pounded into the ground. _

_It was strange feeling like a child again in the middle of a warzone, feeling as vulnerable and weak as he had when his father would yell demeaning words at him and push him around. But at the same time he felt braver, because he knew if he died here he would be dying for something much bigger than his dignity._

…

"War wasn't all it was cracked up to be, was it, boy? I bet after a week out there you were wishin' you could come back here." Michael fixed his father with yet another cold stare, his hands flat on the table as his fingers gripped the edge.

"What's the point of all this?" he growled. Frank watched him for a moment before standing up and nodding his head towards the garage door.

"Let's go for a walk." Michael hesitantly stood up and followed his father outside, releasing a breath as the warm Miami sun shone down on them. It looked exactly as it had when he was a child; except now the streets were empty and it appeared they were the only two people around.

"Alright, Michael, I want you to listen to me," Frank began gruffly, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "the point of this meeting isn't for me to remind you of all the bad things that have happened to you or the decisions you've made in your life; it's to show you that everything you do is for a reason, but it may not be for the one you say it is."

Michael furrowed his eyebrows as he listened, and he watched his father with a sense of interest he never felt as a child.

"Take the time you stole those groceries, was it because we really needed them or was it because you wanted to prove to yourself and your ma that you were better than me?" Frank folded his arms over his broad chest and waited for an answer, but Michael simply stared at the sidewalk beneath his feet.

"Or when you joined the army, was it because you wanted to get away from me, or did you really want to help people? Because I know that no man goes out and risks his life unless it's for a damn good reason." Michael groaned and stopped walking, raising his arms in exasperation and calling to Frank who was still walking.

"Is that was you want to hear from me? That I did those things because I was better than you or that I was willing to die to protect people?" Frank whipped around with blazing eyes that matched Michael's, his face growing redder by the second.

"Is that what you think this is really about, boy? Me getting the satisfaction of hearing that you were wrong? This whole meeting is to make sure you learned your lesson so you can move on. Do you really want to be stuck in the past for the rest of time wondering if you really made the right decision?"

Michael pursed his lips and rubbed a hand over his face. "No, I don't."

For a moment Frank's face softened and he looked like the father Michael knew long ago, before alcohol had ever wedged itself between their family.

"Do you want me to tell you how I got here?" he asked quietly. Michael looked up and nodded silently, curiosity churning in his gut.

"When I first asked why I had been chosen to get into heaven, the angel that greeted me said I had to look past the bad things I had done and focus on the good, because they were there. She reminded me of the times I would take you boys to baseball games, you remember that?" Michael smiled and nodded as the sweet memory came flooding back to him.

"She also reminded me of the years I spent with your ma, and all the things we learned together as we grew, and when she was done I realized that there was some good in me and I know there is good in you too. I've seen it firsthand and I've seen it from up here too. You're a _good_ man Michael, regardless of some of the decisions you've made." Michael didn't know what to say, hearing a compliment of that magnitude coming from his own father established a sense of pride he had never felt before, and he wasn't sure how to react. But Frank simply clapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards the end of the street where a shadowed figure stood.

"Time for you to meet person number two," he said. Michael turned his head and found Frank had vanished, just as Claire had and disappointment was evident on his face and in his mind.

"Are you just gonna stand there or what, Westen, we've got a meeting to get to," a voice suddenly came from the person standing in front of him and Michael stared at the figure as it came into view. The stout man in front of him was scowling playfully as he reached his hand out, waiting impatiently with his foot tapping. Michael blinked; just to be sure he was really seeing this.

"Marv?"

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Eh, I know kind of a dumb ending but I didn't want to start the next meeting until the next chapter so this seemed like a good spot to stop at. I hope you all liked chapter two!


	3. Chapter 3

I'm not completely happy with this chapter, it's short and I feel like it's missing something but I didn't want to wait any longer before updating because tomorrow I go back to school. Hopefully it's not too bad though.

I hope everyone had a fun and safe holiday weekend and thank you guys for the reviews!

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**Pieces Of Time**

Michael was staring at Marv in disbelief; he was not expecting this man to be one of the people who he would meet with. They had a rocky past, and he still felt guilty for the way Marv's life had ended and the impact it had on Jesse. Marv's hand was still extended as he waited for Michael to take it, and after his initial shock wore off he complied.

Once again their surroundings seemed to evaporate and all of a sudden they were standing on the beach in front of the same hotel the two had met in. When Michael looked down he saw he was wearing a pair of blue swim trunks, a dark grey t-shirt and flip flops. Marv smirked at the shock on Michaels face as he plopped down in the sand, bracing himself with his hands as he let the hot sun warm him.

Michael sat down as well and buried his toes in the cool sand, savoring the feeling as he realized he would never get to see the beach again. He chewed his bottom lip and glanced at Marv again, and he wondered what exactly the older man had to offer to his current situation.

"My wife loved the beach," he said suddenly. Michael smiled at him, chuckling a bit when he remembered the day he and Fiona had come to the beach with Jesse and spent hours watching her.

"Is that why this is your heaven?" he asked with genuine curiosity. Marv nodded and watched as a crystal blue wave crashed into the shore.

"You know some days I would give anything to go back and change what happened. I failed my wife and kids when I did what I did, and I failed Jesse too."

"Hey, you did everything you could to protect your family and you risked your career to help Jesse. You're a hero in all of our eyes, regardless of the things you've done." Marv smiled and patted Michael on the back.

"Thanks, nice to hear those kinds of words coming from someone like you." There was a short pause, and then Marv cleared his throat.

"Alright Westen, let's get started. You and me are gonna talk about what it's like to betray someone. And before you start reading me the riot act I want you to hear me out. Sometimes you have to betray someone if it means you're keeping them safe. Like when I gave the flash drive to Brennan. I was protecting my family and you guys as well. Or maybe the time you left Fiona in Ireland." Michael's head snapped up and as the memory began it came with a pang of guilt and regret that settled deep in the pit of his stomach.

…

_He could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance, and he sighed as he listened to the accompanying patter of the rain against the window. Fiona was curled into his side, her slender arms wrapped around his waist as she slept. He watched closely, trying to drink in every detail of her, because tonight was the night. His thumb delicately traced over her lips, and he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. _

_After he was sure she was really asleep he slipped out of the bed and picked his t-shirt up from the floor before slipping it over his head. Michael retrieved the small black duffle bagged he had tucked in the corner of the room and slung it over his shoulder with a quiet sigh. Silently he approached the bed and bent down to place a soft kiss on Fiona's forehead,savoring the sweet scent he could only describe as 'Fiona'. She stirred but didn't wake and Michael bit his lip to keep the tears at bay as he opened the bedroom door and walked out without a second glance._

_As he slipped outside into the night rain beat down on him, soaking his clothes and hair and turning the ground to mud. His boots sloshed in the brown liquid as he ran, wanting to get as far away from the house as possible. It felt as if he had been running forever, and by now his tears were mixed with the rain, blinding him as he stumbled down what was left of the dirt road. _

_Headlights caught his attention and a sleek black SUV pulled up next to him. The window rolled down halfway and a gruff voice that could only belong to his handler was the first thing to greet him. _

"_Get in the car Michael." He obeyed, and was immediately thankful for the heat the vehicle was giving off and he rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. The car began moving and Michael slumped back against his seat, squeezing his eyes shut as he thought._

"_You did the right thing Michael," his handler said suddenly. A dry laugh escaped his lips and Michael shook his head at how clueless this man really was. He had no idea what he was going through or what heartache he had just caused the one woman he loved. And as they disappeared into the night, Michael made a promise that he would never love another woman the way he loved Fiona, because there was no way he could ever hurt her like he had tonight._

…

"Now, if I remember correctly you left Ireland not only because your handler told you too after your mission failed, but because you knew in order to keep Fiona safe you had to get out of Ireland. Am I right?"

"Yes but-"

"Ah, no buts here Westen. You did what you did to protect the woman you love. Did you betray her trust when you did that? Yes, but she's still alive today because of what you did." Marv smiled, but Michael still didn't look convinced. Sighing, Marv decided to take a different approach.

"Ok let's look at it this way, when you burned Jesse why did you decide to keep it a secret? Other than the fact that the kid would've blown your brains out the minute he found you. Kid never exactly excelled in the thinking department." He added with a chuckle.

Michael thought for a moment then answered simply, "To keep him safe as well as Fi, Sam and I. He was into some dangerous things and if I let him loose to chase after them himself without government help he could've gotten himself killed."

"Exactly," Marv exclaimed, sighing dramatically as he turned to look at the ocean once more.

"You betrayed a friend to save their life. That should tell you a little something about yourself Westen." Michael smiled and lay back in the sand, folding his hands behind his head.

He wasn't sure if it was the conversation with Marv, but something inside of him was telling him he needed to make amends and he knew if he didn't he'd be living with the weight of his mistakes on his shoulders. And that, was something Michael wasn't sure he could handle. He turned to Marv with a serious expression, keeping his voice level as he asked.

"So, if I do get into heaven, is it possible for me to go back?" Marv furrowed his eyebrows and lay back as well.

"Back? Back where, to earth?" Michael nodded and swallowed, fearing the answer.

"Sure, if you want to. But most people don't because it's hard watching the ones you love and not being able to speak to them. I tried it once… Definitely wasn't my cup of tea." Marv mused sadly.

"But I could right?" Michael asked again, sitting up and propping himself on his elbow. Marv rolled over too and met Michael's eyes.

"Yeah, but why so eager? You don't even know if you got into heaven yet." Michael shrugged his shoulders and sat up, suddenly feeling too energized to sit any longer. He stood, followed by Marv and began walking down the shore.

"You know Marv; I never got to tell you how sorry I was for burning Jesse and getting you roped into that whole situation. But I do want you to know that we couldn't have stopped those people without you." He looked to Marv, and was relieved when he saw the older man smiling at him.

"I know. One of the things you learn here is forgiveness, but that's another lesson for another person to teach." As he said this Marv nodded to something farther down the shore and Michael saw a man with brown hair approaching them and a smile broke out across his face.

He looked back and saw Marv wave before he disappeared just like Claire and his father had. He quickly turned back and started jogging down the shore until he was face to face with dark headed man, and the two shared a smile as they greeted each other.

"Good to see you Westen, didn't think it would be so soon though." Michael sighed and nodded in agreement.

"Me too Max. How are you?"


	4. Chapter 4

So sorry for the delay guys, I've been having major computer problems and just lost all my files, which majorly sucked.

But everything's better now and I should start to post regularly again. Anyways enough of my rambling, this is one of my favorite chapters, so hopefully you like it too!

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**Pieces Of Time**

"_Good to see you Westen, didn't think it would be this soon though." Michael sighed and nodded in agreement._

"_Me too Max. How are you?"_

Max flashed a bright white smile and shrugged. "About as good as I can be considering." Michael nodded and pursed his lips, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his swim trunks and waited for Max to say something. As if on cue the other man gave a knowing smile and once again their surroundings melted together and Michael found himself standing in a huge ballroom, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a domed ceiling with a skylight in the middle.

When Michael looked at himself he was wearing a black tuxedo with a crisp white t-shirt underneath and a black bowtie. He smirked and glanced at Max, whose outfit closely resembled his and Michael was reminded of all the missions and undercover work he and Max had done. He raised his arms slightly before letting them fall limply to his sides.

"Do you miss it?" He asked suddenly, his voice echoing throughout the empty room. Max shrugged and picked up a glass of champagne Michael could have sworn was not there just moments ago. He accepted the one Max offered him, surprised that he could still feel the bubbly liquid as it slid down his throat.

"Sometimes when I'm watching you kick someone's ass, or rescuing someone who really needs it, I wish I could be there. It's hard not being able to do the things you normally did with the people you're so used to seeing, and I'm not sugar coating it either…" Max's voice drifted off and Michael gripped the stem of his glass tightly, his jaw clenched.

"Well then fi you're not sugar coating it, then I guess I'll go ahead and ask. Does it get easier?" Max considered the question, twirling his glass in his fingers before setting it down and giving Michael a sad smile.

"No not really, but I haven't been here as long as some so I guess I can't give you a real answer. But I can tell you that I miss my wife, and I miss being able to laugh with my friends." There was a pause and Max's face suddenly lit up.

"That reminds me, our lesson deals with the importance of friendship. And everyone that watches you knows that your best friend is the infamous Sam Axe." Michael swallowed the lump that had suddenly become lodged in his throat at the mention of his friend's name. After being given a moment to recover he turned back to Max who offered him another glass of champagne, which he politely declined.

"Alright then," Max said, sitting down in a chair that appeared next to their small table. As Michael looked around he found another one and took a seat as well.

"Do you remember the first mission you ever worked with Sam?" The question, to Michael, seemed utterly ridiculous. Of course he remembered, it had been one of the best, not to mention hardest missions he had ever worked.

…

_It was a hot day, that much he remembered well. There was a sheen of sweat covering his skin and he tugged at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to cool himself. He took another sip of his iced tea as voices and footsteps approached him quickly. He looked up and saw Roger White, an operative he had met a few times and had recently been contacted by for help on an assignment in Russia. With him was a man maybe a few inches shorter than himself and obviously older, with dark brown hair that was beginning to grey on the sides. Michael had never seen him before._

_He stood up and shook roger's hand then let his eyes do a once over on the man next to him. He seemed to be in fairly decent shape, with a broad chest and toned biceps that bugled beneath his blue button up. _

"_Sam Axe," the man said, offering Michael a calloused hand that he took and shook politely._

"_Michael Westen," he said back, only to be answered by a fit of laughter and a slap on the back, both of which had him glowering at the older man._

"_Oh trust me brother, I know who you are. Michael Westen," he stretched out his hands and waved his fingers, speaking in a deep and obviously forced voice. "Man, you're nothing but a legend in most countries." Sam laughed again and Michael grit his teeth in annoyance. Roger, apparently sensing the tension, put a hand on Michael's shoulder and led him a few feet away, leaning in closer to insure their conversation was not overheard. _

"_Listen Michael, I know you're ready to tell me you're not working with that clown, but Axe knows as much about this mission as any expert and it'll be good to have him on your side when you go in." roger's voice sounded almost as if he was pleading with Michael, and as much as he wanted to protest he knew there was no way he could turn this mission down. _

"_Fine, but he plays by my rules. I'm the operative, not him." Roger shook his head and smiled gratefully, before walking back to Sam and whispering something in his ear. A moment later he walked over to Michael and slapped him on the back once more._

"_Looks like you and me are getting an early start brother, better head home and pack." Michael bit back a retort and watched Sam walk away towards the bar, sweet talking the waitress with a sly grin on his face. Michael could tell this would not end well._

…

"God, I thought he was going to be the death of me then," Michael said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Max laughed to and nudged Michael with his elbow.

"Kind of like me when I found out I was assigned to babysit you." Michael nudged him back with a smile and then sighed.

"I wish I had known how much I would need him then. He saved both our asses."

…

_Almost two days later both Sam and Michael were driving through the crowded streets of a small Russian city with just enough people to make him uncomfortable, Sam chattering animatedly while Michael gripped the steering wheel a little harder._

"_So then, I tell her-" _

"_Could you cut the talking down a little? It's hard to concentrate when all you do is talk about women." Michael finally snapped, his face beginning to redden. Sam pursed his lips in obvious anger and slumped back in his seat. _

"_You know, I'm not too happy about working with an agent who has no idea when enough is enough, so don't go thinking that you're alone in this. I can tell you don'__t like me and I can also tell ya, when Roger told me I was working with "The Michael Westen," I had half a mind to get up and walk away right there." Michael was fuming by now, his knuckles impossibly white as they held onto the wheel._

"_Why didn't you? Afraid you'd be considered a failure by me too?" Sam's head whipped around so fast Michael wondered how it didn't give him whiplash. _

"_That's right," Michael said, "I called around about you and I know no one can take you seriously anymore." Sam's hands clenched into fists and for a moment Michael thought he might take a swing. _

"_I don't care what you have to think of me, I took this mission because a friend asked for my help and there was no way I was gonna turn him down just because he wanted to pair me with a psycho agent!" By now both men had reached their wits end and Michael brought the car to a sudden stop ignoring the cacophony of horns and angry voices behind him. _

"_Get out," he said, his voice dangerously low and shaking with anger. Sam looked baffled, his blue eyes widening. _

"_What?" _

"_Get out," Michael said again, louder than before but with some of the control he had regained form earlier. "I told Roger you either play by my rules or you're done." Sam shook his head in disbelief, throwing the door opening and stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk, watching helplessly as Michael sped away without so much as a second glance. Unbelievable._

…

"Wow, looks like you to were at each other's throats in the beginning," Max commented, stretching lazily. Michael nodded sadly, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, it was bad. I never did forgive myself for doing that, but he sure did." He shrugged his shoulders and Max gave his hand a sympathetic pat.

"What's done is done Westen, you can't change the past." Michael sighed and squeezed his eyes shut.

…

_It had been nearly four hours since the incident with Sam and Michael was beginning to regret his actions. He had never deserted anyone on a mission, regardless of the words they had shared. He glanced at the small phone on the table and contemplated calling Sam; just to be sure he was alright._

_After a few seconds Michael shook his head and went back to his task at hand, trying to pick up on the conversation next door, so he knew exactly when he needed to go in and get the computer and flash drive Roger had sent him for. He knew this would be easier with help, that way one of them could make the approach and the other could provide backup, but now he was on his own and he had to be ready. _

_Stripping out of his suit and black dress shoes, Michael pulled on a white polo, almost identical to what the hotel staff wore and a pair of khaki shorts and tennis shoes. He tucked a small gun in the waistband and grabbed the stack of white towels from his bathroom. Deep breaths, he thought. It'll all be over soon. _

_Michael slipped into the hallway and carefully checked no one was coming, and then approached the door of his intended target. He knocked on the door three times as he plastered a much too cheerful smile on his face. He could hear shuffling inside and a moment later the door cracked slightly and Michael was met by a man probably in his early thirties with curly black hair and a scar on his left cheek, the skin still gnarled and pink. _

"_Hello, I brought you some more towels," Michael said in a thick, Russian accent, holding out the towels for inspection. As the man came to the realization that the only thing Michael had with him were towels, he opened the door wider to take them and as he did Michael made his move. _

_He pushed the man back, his back colliding with the wall and causing a loud thump. The man yelled and Michael landed a punch and knocked him out, unwilling to cause any major damage. As soon as the first man went down, two more appeared from around the corner, yelling and running towards him with angry expressions. The first one was able to land a blow to michael's ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. He managed to grab a lamp from the dresser and with one blow, sent him to the floor as well. _

_Straightening up he whirled around, ready for the next round but as he did he felt a sharp impact at the base of his skull and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. It was only a matter of seconds before the world around him turned to blackness. _

…

"Oh, that had to suck," Max said, twirling his gold wedding ring around on his finger. He couldn't hide the smile on his face, and Michael nudged him again as his cheeks flushed red.

"Give me a break," he said, "I wasn't completely ready and I had no backup!" Max smirked.

"That's because you left your backup on the side of the road. When does good 'ol Sammy come back into this picture anyways?"

"Soon," Michael said.

…

_The next morning Sam was more than ready to head home and get out of Russia. When you're not on a mission for the government it can be a beautiful place, but when abandoned on the side of the road with nothing but a few us dollars and a change of clothes, that view quickly changes. He was waiting outside the hotel Michael was supposed to be meeting him at, but so far the other man was ten minutes late. Very unlike a spy, he thought to himself. Deciding he had had enough waiting he went inside, smiling kindly at the older woman at the front desk. _

"_Hi, I was wondering if you've seen a man about this high with dark brown hair, probably wearing sunglasses?" the woman thought for a moment before her face lit up with recognition at Sam's description of Michael._

"_Yes, I saw him last night, but he didn't answer this morning when housekeeping came. I can give you a key if you need to speak with him." Sam smiled widely and nodded._

"_That would be great," he said. Almost five minutes later Sam was outside Michael's door, key in hand. He slid the key in the door and when the light flashed he pushed it open and saw an empty room. At first panic gripped him and Sam wondered if he should call someone, but decided against it before stepping out into the hallway. _

_Out there he could hear muffled, raised voices coming from the room next door and he pressed his ear against the door to get a better listen. His Russian was a little rusty but he knew enough to make out a bit of what was being said. _

"_-American spy.. Kill him.." Sam's blood ran cold and he knew they were talking about Michael, no wonder he hadn't met him down stairs. He paced the floor for a minute, freezing in his place when a thought suddenly entered his mind._

…

"Oh, come on. You can't leave me hanging," Max whined, fumbling with the tie around his neck. Michael wanted to laugh, but something was bothering him. Max seemed to notice and his expression softened.

"Michael, you _cannot _let the past eat at you like that. What you did was wrong, but how many times have you saved Sam's butt on a job or a mission?" Michael sighed in defeat, he knew Max was right but he still couldn't fight off the regret he felt.

"You don't understand," he said, "I never told Sam I was sorry for leaving him and now I never can." He blew out a puff of air and stood up.

"Mike, sit down. There are things none of got to say before we left and at first you think the guilt is going to tear you apart, but over time you realize that they don't care about things that happen in the past, they only care about you and all the good times they got to spend with you." He pat Michael's back and sat back in his chair.

"Now, I think you were just getting to the good part."

…

_Taking a deep breath Sam stood outside the Russians room, his hair rumpled and the reek of alcohol coming from his clothes. All part of the plan. With one hand he knocked loudly, yelling something incoherent. The door opened and the man with the scar, now accompanied by a black eye, fixed him with a cold stare. _

"_Hey you," Sam said, his voice slurring and one of his fingers shoved right in the man's face, "I'll have you know, I don't appreciate you talking to my wife last night. I saw the googly eyes you were giving her." The Russian drew back with a confused and frustrated groan; apparently this wasn't the first time he had to deal with a drunken tourist._

"_I did not look at your wife. Now leave," he hissed, attempting to close the door with little success as Sam blocked it with his foot. _

"_Now, don't think you're getting off that easy.." he leaned forward and just as the man was ready to slam the door Sam pulled a handgun from his pants and pointed it right at him._

"_I think you have something I want," he said in a suddenly sober voice. "And we're going to trade you for him." _

_Pulling the scarred man out of the room Sam kept the gun buried in his ribcage before marching him down to the lobby, waving kindly at the woman at the front desk. Outside Sam shoved the man into the passenger's seat of his car and dug out a zip tie, something he knew Michael would have around. He tied the man's hands together and tossed his cellphone onto his lap._

"_Now, what's your name?" he asked, receiving nothing but silence as a response. He shoved the gun deeper into the man's ribcage, flipping off the safety. _

"_Ivan," the man finally growled, and Sam drew the gun back slightly._

"_Alright the Ivan, dial your boss's number for me. The two of us need to have a little chat." _

_Less than twenty minutes later, with no help from his captive, Sam pulled off the dirt road they had been driving on and put the car in park. Yanking Ivan from his seat he marched the man to the middle of the road, just as another dark car with tinted windows pulled up in front of them. _

_The first one to step out was who Sam assumed was the leader of the group, a man of about forty with dark hair like Ivan's but shaved down and a thin layer of stubble on his neck and around his mouth. After him was a man who was almost identical to Ivan, but a little shorter with boyish features. Probably brothers, he assumed. And lastly there was Michael, who had blood drying in his dark hair from a gash above his eyebrow and a split lip. Holding Ivan tightly around the arm Sam stepped forward, pulling out the gun once more for emphasis. _

"_Well, glad to see you keep your promises," he said in a booming voice, trying to get a better look at Michael in order to asses he damage done to him. When their eyes met Sam nodded towards the gun tucked in the younger man's waistband and Michael nodded back. The older man stepped forward, holding his hands up and speaking in a calm voice._

"_I think you are mistaken," he said, "we do not wish to hurt your friend, we simply want Ivan back and in exchange you and your American friend are free to go." Sam knew the man was bluffing, but he played along and smiled._

"_Well isn't that good to hear," he chuckled, waving the gun slightly. "I was beginning to think we were going to have to start shooting." _

_As if on cue Michael ripped the gun from the young man's pants and held it in his face, while Sam did the same to Ivan. When the leader pulled his weapon out Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head._

"_Uh-uh, you shoot either one of us then both your men are dead. You wouldn't want that would you?" Sam asked with a smug smile. Growling in defeat, the leader lowered his weapon and turned to Michael, "Go, get out of my sight or I will not hesitate to kill you." _

_Backing away Michael kept his gun poised and joined Sam on the other side, slipping into the passenger's seat as the car sped off. Michael leaned his head back and Sam looked at him worriedly._

"_You alright brother?" Michael groaned but managed a nod._

"_Yeah, I'm fine.. Thanks." Sam smiled and slapped Michael on the back._

"_No problem brother, I'm sorry we didn't get the flash drive though." He heard Michael laugh and saw a slender black object clutched in his hand. A smile broke out on Sam's face and he laughed too._

"_Well I'll be damned; I guess we make a pretty good team eh?" Michael raised his eyebrows but managed a smile._

"_Whatever you say Sam." _

…

"Now that was a story," Max said, standing up and stretching. Michael nodded and took off his bowtie, suddenly feeling as if it were suffocating him.

"Yeah, Sam's a great friend and that mission wouldn't have had a shot in hell without him." Max nodded and the two men walked to the end of the room and through a large metal door, outside into the warm summer air.

"I'm glad I got to see you Michael, and I appreciate you finding my killer. I know my wife is grateful to you as well." The two shook hands and just like clockwork Max disappeared and Michael was left alone. He walked to the large fountain just a few feet away and sat on the edge, staring at his reflection in the clear water.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mr. Michael Westen. I was beginning to think we'd never see each other." Michael recognized the voice without looking, and a feeling of absolute joy filled him. The man sat down next to him and Michael wrapped him in a hug, holding on tightly.

"Me too Andre, it's been way too long."


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for all the kind reviews! It means a lot!

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**Pieces Of Time**

After their quick embrace ended Andre wasted no time grabbing Michael's hand and allowing the surroundings to change. Now, instead of standing outside of the mansion, the two friends were standing on lush green grass, next to them a large baseball field and a playground. Michael immediately recognized the park where he and Andre used to play as children.

He chuckled when he saw Andre wearing a baseball jersey much like the ones he and Michael would wear every Sunday at their baseball games. When Michael looked at himself he saw that he was also wearing one, and he felt his heart lurch when he thought of all the good times he and his best friend had shared before they had begun to grow apart.

Looking over where Andre had been standing he saw that his friend was no longer there and he was worried he had been left. But after a moment he heard a high pitched whistle and turned around just in time to see the baseball headed in his direction. He caught it with a skilled hand, glaring at Andre, who was now standing a few feet away and smiling wickedly.

"You remember the time I busted your nose up with one of those things?" he asked, cackling in delight.

"Of course I remember, we had to go home and explain to Ma about how we managed to break my nose playing catch." He answered bluntly.

"And then," he continued, "you weren't allowed to come over for a week." Andre shrugged innocently and caught the ball just as Michael tossed it back.

"Well, it's not like you let that stop you from sneaking over to my house." He said, raising an eyebrow. Michael laughed, lowering himself onto the green grass and waiting for Andre to sit down beside him. Leaning back and bracing himself with his hands, Michael looked up at the sky, impossibly blue with wispy white clouds dotted throughout.

"I always knew you would go on to do big things Mike. The day you told me you were joining the army I knew you would go on to help people for as long as you could." Andre shook his head and pursed his lips.

"I always thought it would be years before I saw you here.. It's a shame you know.." he trailed off sadly, letting out a whoosh of air as he ran a hand through his short, curly hair.

"Hey," Michael said, patting his friend's knee, "it's not like it's your fault I'm here. There's no need to feel guilty about something you had no control over.." Andre, whose features suddenly melted into an expression Michael couldn't read, looked at Michael and smiled slightly.

"You wanna know something cool?" he asked and after a moment's hesitation Michael nodded.

"Alright, do you remember when you held that gun at Sam?" he asked. Michael swallowed thickly and nodded, his stomach churning quickly.

"Do you remember why you put that gun down? Was it really Agent Pearce's threat?" Michael thought for a moment, scowling, and then looking at Andre as if he were crazy.

"I don't know.. I really just remember feeling like what I was doing was completely nuts and then.."

"That's right, nothing anybody said _said_ made you put the gun down, I did." Michael guffawed and Andre glared, smacking him in the arm.

"I'm serious Michael, I was there and I lowered your arm. There was no way I could let you lose another friend, especially due to your own stupidity." As Michael tried to comprehend what he had been told he blinked a few times, then lowered his head into his hands.

"Relax Mike, we all make mistakes and we all need a little help every now and then" Andre said, laying back in the grass and watching the clouds. Michael raised his head, letting air fill his cheeks before exhaling loudly and falling back beside Andre.

"Should I say thank you?" he asked, completely unsure of what his reaction should be to news like that. Andre shook his head, his eyes locked on the sky above.

"No man, think of it as me repaying you for all the times you saved my ass as a teenager."

"Alright, I guess we're even then." Michael said with a satisfied grin. For a moment the two sat in a comfortable silence before Andre sighed, sat up and looked at Michael, who looked content as he continued to lie on the ground.

"Alright Mike, get up. It's time to get on with your lesson. I've stalled as much as I can." As Michael sat up andre pulled something out of his back pocket and handed it to him. The object, an old, torn up baseball glove was put in michael's hand and he ran his fingers over the worn material.

"Wow, you still managed to keep up with this thing?" he asked and Andre smiled proudly and nodded.

"Of course, it was one of the last things I had that we shared.. Now, let's get on with your lesson." He stretched his legs and cleared his throat.

"You know I think of you and your family as my own. You guys were always there for me and Ricky and i'm completely grateful to you all. So that being said, the lesson I'm here to teach you is all about family and how it's important to always rely on them. You never know when you're going to need them the most. Take the day after Fiona was arrested, your mother sat up all night with you because you refused to sleep, eat or do anything."

"Yeah, I was a mess but she refused to go home even after I told her I could handle it. I never really told her how much I appreciated that and now.. Now she won't even talk to me." When his voice cracked slightly Michael cursed, covering his mouth with his hand and blinking back tears.

"Yeah, but she just needs some time mike, that was her baby she just lost. The one she always felt she had to protect. Just because she needs her space does not mean she loves you any less."

"Now, tell me about the night you two spent together."

…

_Outside on the balcony Michael stood stone still, watching the city below as people came and went, completely oblivious to the pain he was in. he was vaguely aware of the sound of the door opening, the metal scraping across the ground and creating a shriek that would normally hurt his ears. _

_Footsteps approached him and a gentle hand rested itself on his shoulder, long manicured fingernails grazing the skin beneath his thin thsirt._

"_Ma," he managed to choke out, before his face crumpled and tears descended down his cheeks. Madeline didn't say anything, she just gathered her son in her arms and rubbed soothing circles on his back, swallowing the lump in her throat as she listened to her son weep for the woman he loved. _

"_Shh, Michael it's alright. You need to calm down before you make yourself sick." Her motherly tone was comforting and he managed to draw in a deep breath, furiously wiping at his blood red eyes. He let madeline walk him inside, perching on a stool as she rummaged through his fridge, pulling out a blueberry yogurt and setting it down in front of him. _

"_Eat." She said, her voice firm but sympathetic as she handed him a spoon from the drawer. Michael stared at the cup in distaste, a seemingly permanent frown painted on his face. Madeline sighed, walked around the counter to her son and rested her chin on his shoulder. _

"_Michael honey, sometimes you have to realize that you can't fix everything. Fiona knew that what you were in was too big even for the four of you and she took it upon herself to fix it for you." She cupped his cheek in her hand, her thumb wiping away a stray tear._

"_So in order to repay her, you need to take care of yourself, I don't know how you think you can just waltz around and do all this spy stuff if you refuse to eat!" Her voice raised an octave or two and she threw her hands up in exasperation. Michael, a little unnerved by his mother's sudden outburst, decided now was probably the best time to say what was on his mind._

"_Ma, I just don't know what to do. I feel like all of this is my fault. If I had just let everything go like fi asked me to do, then we wouldn't even be in this situation." Madeline sighed and took her sons hand in her own, squeezing it gently._

"_Michael, I may not know a whole lot about what goes on with you but I know, from the last four years, that there will always be someone after you. So no matter what you would have decided, Anson Fullerton would have found you. If anything you're lucky things happened this way." _

_As much as he didn't want to believe it Michael knew his mother was right, they were lucky none of them had ended up dead. Groaning and pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes Michael stood up and began pacing the floor._

"_It's just not fair," he said at last, "I did everything I could to protect her, I begged her not to do it but she still left. And Sam, he's no better than her in all of this. He's the one that helped her do it, did they not think of me?" _

"_Michael, I am going to tell you right now that I know you're angry and I know you're stressed, but placing the blame on your friends will not get you anywhere. Everything they did was for you, because you were in too deep and you had no clue when to stop." Her expression softened as she saw the look of defeat that crossed her sons face. _

"_You need to eat something, and then get some rest. I'll stay here with you tonight and if you need anything, I'll be right here." She kissed his cheek, stood up, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. She stood where he had been just moments ago, plumes of smoke snaking around her as she watched the lights of Miami, her eyes glazed with tears. _

_Sighing, Michael picked up the yogurt and began shoveling it into his mouth, not noticing how hungry he was until now. When he looked up he caught his mother's eye and they shared a smile before Michael walked to his bed and lay down, falling asleep almost instantly. _

…

"Your ma always did know just what to say," Andre mused, plucking a few blades of grass before tossing them aside.

"Yeah, she did." Michael agreed sadly. Andre glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"She still does you know?"

"Well then," Andre announced, standing up and brushing off his jeans, "We better get a move on, we've taken up way too much time." He extended his hand and helped Michael up, walking towards the baseball diamond just to their left.

"You make sure you come by and see me again, alright? I don't want any of this 'ten years without seeing you again' crap." The two men laughed and shook hands before pulling each other into another hug.

"You can count on that Andre, it was so good to see you again." Andre clapped him on the back and then pointed somewhere behind michael.

"Probably not as good as it is to see him." And with that andre vanished, leaving mochael to wonder who exactly was behind him. As he slowly turned around, it felt as if all the air had been pushed form his body and a hand flew to his mouth as tears filled his eyes.

"Nate."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks so much for the reviews! Hope you're still enjoying.

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**Pieces Of Time**

Michael immediately felt his breath catch in his throat, unable to move his feet to move closer to his brother. He was afraid it was a dream and as soon as he made a move he would wake up and Nate would be gone once more. Instead Nate took charge and took a careful step forward, holding out his hand and waiting patiently for Michael to take it. Looking up at his brother with uncertainty he grasped it, closing his eyes as the world around him melted into a sea of colors and shapes, not opening his eyes until a soft voice drifted towards him, so full of certainty and confidence.

"Mike, open your eyes. Look where we are." When he did as he was told and his eyelids slowly fluttered open he was almost sure he could have burst into tears. They were nestled deep inside a wooded area, a small creak to their left, the sound of running water filling the void caused by the silence between the two and a slew of trees surrounding them. They stood in the middle of it all, Michael's mouth opened wide in awe, and Nate standing with his hands on his hips looking proud of his choice.

"You remember this bro? Whenever dad would have one of his spells would sneak out and come down here and sit all day. We never had to worry about him finding us." He unfolded his arms and let them swing freely at his sides, kicking at a clump of grass next to his foot. Michael, who still had yet to speak, looked at his little brother in pure amazement and as his thoughts finally caught up to him he surged forward and pulled him into his arms, hands linking together behind his back.

Any other time Nate would have pushed him aside and teased him, but the emotions flooding the air were so strong he couldn't help but grip him just as tight, letting his face sink into the fabric of his brothers t-shirt.

"It's alright Mike, it's alright." When Michael was finally able to gain his composure he backed away slightly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and breathing deeply. He hadn't expected the reaction to his brother's sudden appearance to affect him like that, and he admitted to being slightly overwhelmed. When he look up Nate was smiling, gesturing for Michael to follow as he walked closer to the creek and looked down into the clear running water.

"How's ma?" he asked, noting the physical reaction his brother gave, wincing slightly at the mention of the woman who had been causing a great deal of his pain and stress. Understandably of course. He waited a moment before nudging Michael with his elbow as to kick start the conversation.

"She's.. God I don't even know what to say. She's devastated, she's pissed at everyone, she won't speak to anyone unless she's practically forced. She smokes too many cigarettes and the other day I saw an almost empty bottle of scotch on the counter.." he glanced at Nate with helpless brown eyes, wishing there was some way he could help him fix the mess he had made.

At the news Nate sighed heavily, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. That was not what he was wanting to hear. While he knew his mother would be grieving his death he was not prepared to hear where the blame had been placed, or how it was being dealt with.

"I'm sorry Mike.." when the words rolled off his tongue Michael felt his body flush with an unbearable heat, his head turning just enough so he could see Nate as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"You do not apologize for this," he ground each word out carefully, his voice low and serious, "you have nothing to be sorry about. I sent you out after Anson; I'm the one who kicked you out of the hotel. It's my fault you were shot." The last words escaped his lips as a ragged whisper, his eyes downcast on the ground beneath him. Nate exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Michael I know that's what you think, but trust me when I say that I don't blame you. And deep down mom doesn't blame you either. She's upset, she's hurting and she needs someone to put the blame on until she's able to see clearly again." His hand was resting on Michael's shoulder, his fingers giving a gentle squeeze as he smiled softly. Michael, after a moment to grieve on his own, smiled back and pulled Nate into another hug. As the two pulled apart Nate sat down on the soft grass, Michael following suit.

"Alright then Mike, by now you should know what's gonna happen so let's get started. You've already talked to dad.. How'd that go by the way?" Michael shot him a glare and he laughed, continuing.

"He told you about the reasoning behind your actions. Marv taught you that betrayal in the name of a friend isn't always a bad thing. Max showed you that you should cherish every friendship, and Andre gave you that whole spiel on family." Michael offered him a roll of his eyes but let him continue.

"And now it's my turn to teach you something. Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn't sent me after Anson?" Michael's eyes widened and he realized that no, he hadn't thought of the possibility of Anson escaping. He had been so caught up in Nate's death and the seemingly impossible reconciliation with his brother. When he shook his head Nate didn't look surprised.

"Well Michael, if I hadn't stopped Anson, then Fi never would have gotten out of jail when she did. You would have spent at least another year looking for him, and even if you were able to find him capture would have been a completely different story. Fi would have never made it like that and you know it. She was withering away in there, and by having me go after Anson you saved her." As if in denial Michael repeatedly shook his head, the tears that had been welling in his eyes now running down his cheeks as he stared at the ripples in the water.

"It can't just be that simple. You don't just lose someone and then everything turns out fine, it's just not how it works." He said, his voice raising and his hands balled into angry fists. Nate gave him a sympathetic smile and pat his knee.

"Sometimes it is that easy Mike. And you're making it sound like I enjoy being dead, I miss my son and I miss Ma. I even miss Fi, Sam and Jesse and getting to be a part of your team. No I'm not thrilled, but I know that my part in all this helped free Fiona, and I'm ok with that."

With a sniff Michael stood, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. He wasn't sure what to think, his mind seemed to be running on low and his thoughts were crowded together, making coherent thinking almost impossible. He wanted nothing more than to take his brothers words and believe that everything was right and the way it should be but for some reason he couldn't. it all seemed like some fabricated lie put together to make him feel better.

Just as he was about to take a step back a sharp pain ripped through his abdomen and he doubled over in pain.

…

Sam walked into the loft, meeting a tired looking Jesse who offered him a beer in exchange for the manila folder in his hands.

"We did brother. That son of a bitch is gonna be staring at the inside of a jail cell for the rest of his life. I got the word from a buddy of mine down at PD that Ramos is being charged with everything the DA can support, there's no way he'll walk." Jesse's exhausted features melted into a look of pure relief and he collapsed into one of the stools next to him.

"Thank God man, I wasn't sure how much longer we could keep going like this." He held up his own beer bottle and Sam happily let his own clank with it before taking a swig.

"I guess now all we can do is hope for the best," jesse said, his voice low but hopeful. Sam smiled sadly and nodded.

"Amen to that brother."

…

Michael looked down at his shirt and to his horror is was stained with bright red blood. He pressed his hand to it and another wave of pain overtook him. Desperately, he looked around for Nate, but the only things he saw were the trees.

"Nate, Nate help!" he called as loud as he could, suddenly feeling helpless. The blood dripped to the ground, spilling out between his fingers. His knees felt weak and soon he was kneeling on the ground.

"Nate, don't leave me alone please!" this time when he looked up he saw Nate standing in front of him, a sad smile on his face. Michael reached for him but he was out of reach, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"I'm proud of you Michael, you're gonna do good things." Michael opened his mouth but no words came out, just a strangled cry as the pain washed over him once more.

"Nate please, take me with you. They said all I had to do was meet five people.."

"You're ok Michael, just focus alright." And with that Nate walked away, disappearing through the trees as a crack of thunder sounded overhead. The rain pelted him and each breath was excruciating. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. Wait until this nightmare was over. But the blood kept coming and the pain became worse until finally the rain stopped and one last jolt sent him towards the ground.

A soft voice filled his ears, "Michael?"

…

His eyes fluttered open, bright walls surrounding him and a face he couldn't make out. He felt a hand on his cheek, the skin incredibly soft and warm. He blinked a few times, and suddenly the face came into focus. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Fi?" she sighed in relief and her voice cracked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Oh Michael, thank god."

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Haha, gotcha!


	7. Chapter 7

Well we've finally reached the end and all I can say is thank you guys for all the kind words and awesome reviews this story has gotten. You make it completely worth it! I also wanted to say a big thanks to DKougar, whom I can't thank personally on here, for all the kind words that have been given and for sticking with this story as well as the rest of you! All of you are greatly appreciated!

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**Pieces Of Time**

Slowly Michael's vision began to clear and he could make out Fiona's face as she stood over him protectively. As he glanced around he noticed the all of the wires and machines attached to him and the soft hum that accompanied them. Fiona lay a gentle hand on his face, cupping his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. Tears filled her eyes but had not yet fallen, and as much as it pained him he lifted his arm and grabbed her hand, squeezing gently as if to reassure her.

"Oh Michael," she whispered, her voice thick, "I was so afraid you weren't going to wake up. Do you remember anything?" At first Michael opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it as he realized just what Fiona's question meant. No, he didn't remember almost anything about the shooting; it was mostly a grey blur in his mind. All he really remembered were the meetings, but he couldn't tell Fiona about them. There's no way she would believe him anyways. Instead he mutely shook his head as he continued to grasp her hand.

"Well that's alright. If you really want to know we can fill you in later." At the mention of "we" Fiona's eyes widened in realization and she stood, kissing michael's cheek as she did.

"I'll be right back I have to call Jesse, Sam and your mother." At the sound of his mother Michael raised his head and tried to sit up, earning him a glare from Fiona. Instead he settled back down and looked at her with wide brown eyes that suddenly reminded her of a child.

"My mom? You've talked to her?" his voice came out as barely a whisper, his throat tight and raw from not talking, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to see his mother. Fiona nodded and smiled softly, pulling her phone from the pocket of her denim shorts.

"I'll tell her you're asking for her," she said, walking out of the room. When she left Michael let his head fall back on his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. There was still a slight throb in his abdomen, reminding him of why he was in this situation. Curiosity got the best of him and he slowly lifted his hospital gown, revealing a bandage placed tightly over a spot on the lower right side of his stomach. He peeled it back carefully and saw the bullet hole, still slightly pink but beginning to heal nicely.

He sighed softly and put the bandage back in place, pulling his hospital gown down as well. Fiona slipped back inside the room with a young nurse trailing behind her, a cheery smile on her face.

"well, nice to see you awake Mr. Decker. You gave us quite a scare there for a little while." At first he scowled at the name coming from the nurse but Fiona's look told him to play along and he did, even allowing her to poke and prod him until she was satisfied he was alright. As soon as she left Fiona collapsed onto his bed, running her fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek with a longing sigh.

"Sam thought it would be best if we used an alias, just in case word got around to Ramos that you were still alive before we took him down." Michael quirked an eyebrow and rested his head against her shoulder.

"You guys took down Ramos?" Fiona scoffed but nodded.

"Don't sound so surprised Michael. You're not the only one that knows what you're doing." She looked down at his stomach and her eyebrows rose but this time Michael silenced her with a glare of his own. Pursing her lips she nuzzled against him and let her lips press a kiss to his shoulder.

"Hey fi," he asked softly.

"Mhhm?"

"What happened after I was shot?" for a moment she was silent but eventually she sat up and took Michael's hand in her own, taking a deep breath.

...

_As soon as he heard the shot Sam was at Michael's side, kneeling over him as he pressed hard on the gaping hole in his friends side. Blood poured out from between his fingers, trickling from Michael's mouth and staining Sam's khaki pants. _

"_Come on Mike stay with me OK?" He was practically yelling, shaking Michael gently to keep him awake although he could tell he was fading fast. A bystander had already called 911 but it felt like a lifetime of waiting as Sam held a dying friend in his arms. _

_He could hear pounding footsteps and saw Jesse and Fi appear in the midst of the broken glass and blood. Fiona had a hand covering her mouth, tears pooling in her eyes. Jesse's expression seemed to be almost unreadable as he saw Sam desperately trying to keep Michael awake and the memories of a dying Nate Westen in his brothers arms soon flooded his mind, making him look away for a moment. _

_Fiona finally knelt down beside them and grasped Michael's hand, the skin already dangerously cold as she wrapped her fingers around it. When she looked at Sam she saw the grave look in his eyes and she willed herself to keep calm and wait for the paramedics. It seemed like a lifetime but eventually two young men bound through the door, immediately dropping down beside Michael, one pressing two skilled fingers to his neck. _

"_His pulse is weak, we've got to move him now." Together with a little help from Sam Michael was loaded onto an ambulance, Fiona seated next to him as she refused to leave his side. She vaguely remembered hearing Sam tell her they would meet at the hospital, all her focus was on Michael, whose limp hand still rested in her own. _

_She was beginning to get lost in her own thoughts when the sudden shrill beep of Michael's heart monitor pierced the air._

"_We're losing him," one of the paramedics yelled, nudging Fiona out of the way. She felt her blood run cold and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling helpless as she watched on. Two paddles were rubbed together before being placed on Michael's chest, his body leaping from the gurney as the electricity coursed through him. Still the shrill beeping filled the air._

"_Again!" the other man shouted his face paling as he looked at the monitor. The flat line that ran across it seemed to cut into Fiona's heart, breathing feeling almost impossible at the moment. Once more the paddles met his bare skin and his body jerked, his head lolling to one side. Still the monitor continued to beep. Fiona glanced at her watch. Almost six minutes. _

"_One more time," the paramedic muttered, determination flashing in his blue eyes. As Michael's body flailed once more a steady slow beep took place of the flat line and Fiona was almost certain she could cry._

"_Alright," the paramedic muttered to Michael with relief in his voice, "welcome back." _

…

"I died?" Michael asked his mouth slightly agape. Fiona nodded and stretched her legs, much like a cat waking up from a nap.

"Yes, you were dead for almost six minutes." She whispered. Almost six minutes without the man she loved, without the man she knew was her soul mate. Michael breathed in sharply and shook his head, almost in shock. It would explain everything, the meetings, the pain, Nate leaving. It all made perfect sense now. Or at least as much sense as it could.

Michael looked up at Fiona before pulling her into a kiss, his lips meshing with hers as she let one hand get lost in his hair, the other propping herself up. It was sweet and full of emotion, everything Michael wanted to say but couldn't. when they finally let their lips part Fiona smiled and let her forehead come to rest against his.

"I love you Michael."

"I love you Fi, I'm sorry for everything that's happened between us. I'm so glad I have you." Just as Fiona was about to respond a shrill voice interrupted and Michael almost sighed in irritation.

"I want to see my son, is that so much to ask?" The door swung open and Madeline appeared, throwing her hands up when she saw Michael. the agitated nurse beside her huffed and closed the door, allowing them some privacy.

"Oh thank god, I was beginning to think they would never let me see you!" she came to his side and set her bag down, inspecting Michael to make sure his only injury was the gunshot. When her hand came to rest on his cheek he almost jumped back in surprise. Fiona sucked in a breath and pecked Michael on the cheek as she stood.

"I'm going to go get some coffee and meet the boys out front. Can I get you anything?" both shook their heads and Fiona quickly retreated out the door, leaving mother and son in a desperate staring match. Michael, unable to take the silence any longer, cleared his throat and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

"How are you mom?" it seemed like a pointless question with him lying in a hospital bed but for now Michael thought it was best to test the waters before diving right in.

"I'm alright Michael, although I'm not sure if I could say the same for you." She chuckled nervously and shifted in the chair, wishing desperately that she had a cigarette right now. She looked up and met her sons eyes, emotions flooding through her like a torrential rain storm.

"I'm glad you're alright," she whispered, clutching his hand. Michael breathed slowly and blinked back tears.

"Mom, I'm so sorry about Nate and I know it may take a while but.."

"Michael, I'll admit that for a while I did blame you for your brother's death. I was just so angry and I didn't know who else I could blame. I never stopped loving you even after what happened, not even for a second and I want you to know that." Madeline stopped and wiped a stray tear that had escaped and traveled down her cheek.

"When Fiona called and said you had been shot, I thought I was losing Nate all over and I realized that not even you are safe in this world, and bad people are always going to try and take me boys from me. So now it's time to put the past behind us and move on, because there's always something that could happen to you and I'm not ready to let go yet." She leaned forward and carefully pulled Michael into her arms, tears staining his hospital gown, hot on his skin. He held on tightly, ignoring the throbbing he felt, because right now all he wanted was his mother and he finally had her back.

"I'm sorry ma, I didn't mean to scare you." Madeline pulled back and wiped the tears from his eyes, smoothing a hand over his hair.

"I know Michael, it's alright. We got lucky again."

A soft knock had both of them turning around, smiling when Sam came into the room followed by Jesse and Fiona. Sam pulled a chair up next to Madeline, kissing her cheek in greeting.

"You're looking good Mike, much better than you were before at least." Jesse reached out an arm and nudged Sam, smiling at Michael as he greeted Madeline as well.

"What he means is we're glad you're Ok. We were really worried." Michael smiled at his friends and for a while they all talked, Sam and Jesse filling him in on the details of Ramos' arrest and how the case had wrapped up nicely. It wasn't until Madeline caught Michael yawning that she shooed them all out, promising they could visit tomorrow.

Fiona gave Michael a kiss and Sam promised he would get her home safe, patting Madeline on the shoulder as he went. Michael smiled sleepily at his mother, who pulled a blanket around him and kissed his cheek, remembering all the times when he was little and she would tuck him into bed at night.

She smiled and settled back into her seat, watching Michael as he sank back against the pillow and closed his eyes, finally able to put his burdens aside and live life the way he wanted. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he smiled and remembered to silently thank each of his five guardian angels as he finally drifted to sleep.


End file.
